


From the Ashes

by Binary_Sunset



Series: Credence Heals [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: (only a little but I'm tagging for it anyway), Christmas Fluff, Christmas Shopping, Credence Barebone Heals, Credence Barebone Learning Magic, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-11 15:52:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12938604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Binary_Sunset/pseuds/Binary_Sunset
Summary: After moving in with Newt full-time, Credence is invited to the Scamander family Christmas. Having never celebrated it before under Mary Lou's strict rules, he tries his best to participate.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, I actually finished this in August and, just… never posted it. I guess it’s festive now?
> 
> Another weird detail about this fic: It’s mostly Christmas oriented, despite the fact that I’m Jewish.
> 
> Also just an FYI, this was (obviously) written back when the most we knew about Theseus was that he exists, so I just always imagined him looking like [Joe Kennedy III](http://www.bostonherald.com/sites/default/files/styles/gallery/public/media/ap/3dd3fd2dba0e4972b94d2fd0db882d18.jpg?itok=186Zc10O)?? I marched with him at Pride and couldn't unsee him as Theseus, so here he is. Also, I know that Theseus fought in World War I, which was _incredibly_ infamous for leaving its veterans with scars, both physical and emotional. We don't go too deeply into his character here, but I did want to show that part of history and how much of an impact the war had on those who fought in it. Theseus' chronic cough is a side effect of his lungs being scarred by mustard gas on the front lines. I know it's not pretty or fun to think about, but I thought it was important to show the aftermath of war even on those who survived, even in a subtle way. I was also thinking of giving him a prosthetic limb, but I wasn't sure how well that would go down in the Auror corps if his mobility was impaired. But make no mistake, World War I was BRUTAL, even if it's often overshadowed by its counterpart.
> 
> A quick shoutout to [the one true bae-ta](https://nightquills.tumblr.com/) for looking this shit over for me like a champ!

Life with Newt had a certain comfortable rhythm to it. Credence would sleep in the bedroom in the suitcase and wake up to Newt fixing breakfast for them. He'd take him around the various biomes afterwards, teaching him how to care for the various different creatures. His favourite were the occamys, who were always eager to see someone travelling around with their “mummy”. He'd even gotten one to wind around his arm once.

The nice thing was that, once the chores were finished, Credence had almost complete control over how the day was spent. While Newt was working on drafts and meeting with publishers, he’d give Credence a few gold coins (Newt had called them “galleons”) and let him know that he was welcome to have his run of the city. Most days, he preferred to stay by Newt’s side, making food for both of them and leaving some on the fire escape for the neighbourhood cats. Mary Lou had never let him near the cats in New York. She'd always claimed that they were witches’ familiars, come to convert him to their evil ways. Now that he was living with a real witch, of course, he wasn't so scared of that anymore. Even if they were familiars, he knew Newt would protect him. And so far they hadn't done anything out of the ordinary, so Credence was sure that was just another one of her lies.

Credence had learned that Mary Lou lied a lot, especially about witches. Newt wasn’t cruel or evil, and he certainly didn't fly around on a broomstick or drink the blood of infants. What Credence found more interesting was that Newt was actually right-handed. Mary Lou claimed that left-handedness was a sign of the devil, and that all witches used their left hand. He thought maybe bad witches used their left hands, but Credence had slipped up a few times and written grocery lists with his left hand and Newt hadn't said anything. Or maybe he already knew Credence was bad and wasn't surprised by the hand he preferred.

Regardless, Newt was always kind to him. Even if he dropped things or burned food, he was always forgiving. Credence kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Newt to ask something of him that he wasn't comfortable doing or to suddenly snap and yell at him for something, but a month had passed and he was still as calm and understanding as ever.

Credence was also becoming more comfortable with magic. He’d still had yet to really make a spell work, but now when Newt levitated things or healed Credence’s cuts and scratches if the cats got too feisty, he no longer flinched or tried to run away. That was probably the most dramatic of Mary Lou’s lies: that witches were evil and only used magic to hurt people. He’d seen Newt calm scared creatures or heal them enough times to know just how wrong this was. And even if he’d done some bad things in the past, he’d never done anything to hurt Credence and had even offered up his home.

It was nice, but he was also painfully aware that it couldn’t last. Credence was a magnet, it seemed, for bad people and trouble.

It had been a few weeks of calm and quiet when, as Newt and Credence were tending to the occamys, he let something slip.

“My brother’s going to be coming over for lunch today. If you want to join us, you’re welcome to. If not, you could stay here.”

Credence gently stroked one of the occamy’s bright feathers. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“His name is Theseus,” Newt explained, pulling out some portions of fish that Credence had picked up at the market yesterday. “He was a hero in the Great War.”

“What’s he like?” Credence asked. Left unspoken were the questions _Would I like him? Is he a cruel person?_

“He was sorted into Gryffindor, which should tell you just about everything you need to know. He enlisted in the war before Wizards were supposed to get involved and kept his whole platoon alive barely using any magic,” Newt explained. “I think you’d like him, though he might be a bit overbearing at times. He’s a good man.”

Credence let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. “Yeah, I’ll have lunch with you. I don’t think I’ve ever met a Gryffindor before.”

Newt paused, gently letting the occamy he was holding return to its nest. “No, I don’t think you have. I suppose Tina is the closest person, though she never went to Hogwarts.”

“Never went to Hogwarts? I thought all witches went to Hogwarts.”

Newt chuckled. “They’re from America. They went to school at Ilvermorny. You didn’t think we squoze every witch and wizard on the planet into one castle, did you?”

Credence felt his face grow hot. Of course they hadn’t gone to Hogwarts. Hogwarts was in England. How could he have been so stupid? “I… I guess that never occurred to me…”

“I don’t blame you. There’s so much you have yet to learn.” He laughed again and picked up one of the tins he kept woodlice in. “Let’s get to feeding the bowtruckles, shall we?”

 

•••

 

Once they were done with the creatures, Credence had made his way to the study, where a few of Newt’s old school books were laid out on the table. He still hadn’t gotten much further than basic first year spells, and Newt’s wand still splintered when he attempted to use it. Still, he wanted to learn magic, if for no other reason than to prove to himself that he could.

He hadn’t quite made any progress as of yet, but he was sure his current inability to use a wand had something to do with that.

While he was reading over the section on the Wand Lighting Charm for what felt like the hundredth time, there was a knock at the door.

“That must be Theseus,” Newt explained as he walked past Credence and towards the door. “I should’ve known he’d been early, I haven’t prepared anything…”

“I could probably cook something,” Credence offered. After all, he enjoyed cooking and tended to do most of it while Newt was busy working on his book. He liked feeling useful and knowing that he was helping out, even in a small way.

“Thank you, Credence. That would be wonderful. I just went to the store, so there should be something for you.”

And sure enough there was. The icebox was full of vegetables and lunch meats. Making a few sandwiches shouldn't be too difficult.

As he heard Newt answer the door, Credence took a moment to peek his head out of the kitchen.

The man who stood at the door, Theseus, as Credence guessed him to be, looked a bit like his brother. He was a little bit taller and his hair was red, like Newt’s, but it was neatly cut in a respectable fashion, whereas Newt’s looked like he hadn’t seen a barber in several months (which, of course, he hadn’t. Newt preferred to cut his own hair and, even then, he did so rarely). He was wearing a freshly-pressed suit, with the handle of a wand sticking out of one jacket pocket. The man really looked like the picture of a hero: dashing and well dressed, but with a certain air of kindness to him. Credence liked him immediately.

The visitor wrapped his arms around Newt in a hug so tight, it looked downright painful. “Oh my goodness, Newt, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” He let Newt go, and Credence went back to preparing lunch.

“You’ve gotten so much older since you started travelling! And the sun gave you so many freckles! You hardly even look like yourself anymore, you know that? I doubt _anyone_ would believe you were my baby brother,” Theseus continued. It was punctuated by a dry cough.

He heard Newt’s familiar chuckle. “Well, I’m hardly a _baby_ anymore, Theseus. I’m sure you’d be impressed to know that I squared up against a dark wizard and won.”

“I know, I heard about that! You got your picture in the _Prophet_ and everything! Just think, my own flesh and blood helped bring Gellert Grindelwald to justice! And I thought _I_ was the big shot in our family.”

Credence finished up with the sandwiches and placed them on a platter on the kitchen table. He grabbed a plate and took a sandwich for himself.

As he was about to leave the room, Newt’s gentle voice stopped him. “Credence, you can come sit with us if you’d like.”

Credence considered it for a moment. He always liked eating with Newt, who was always happy to fill Credence’s silence with all sorts of chatter about his creatures, or the weather, or just about anything else for that matter. But Theseus… Credence wasn’t quite sure he trusted him. Not yet, anyhow. He may have been kind to Newt, but that didn’t mean anything substantial.

“I’d… rather not,” he said quietly.

Newt just smiled. “Alright, then. We’re going to be using the kitchen table, but you can have just about anywhere else to yourself.”

Credence nodded and took his sandwich into the living room, out of sight but still within earshot of Newt and Theseus. He felt a bit bad choosing to eavesdrop on their private conversation, but he needed to know what kind of man Theseus was.

“Who was that?” asked Theseus’ voice.

There was a pause before Newt answered “Have you.. heard about an Obscurial in New York?”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve adopted an Obscurus…” his tone was exasperated, one that Credence occasionally employed while talking to Newt.

“Not the parasite so much as its host.” There was a short pause, and Credence could only imagine the expression on Theseus’ face. “Come on, Thes, he’s not dangerous.”

Credence felt the Obscurus start to swirl inside him at this. Theseus thought he was dangerous, was afraid of him after just learning what he was.

His thoughts were interrupted by a cough from Theseus. “‘Not dangerous’ the same way horklumps aren’t dangerous, or ‘not dangerous’ like the doxies you brought home from your trip to France?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be allergic to them!” There was another pause and then “No, really, Theseus, Credence isn’t dangerous. I’ve actually been rehabilitating him. He’s able to keep his corporeal form, even when he’s scared or upset, which is a tremendous improvement from when we found him!” Another pause. “Really, Theseus, he’s spent his entire life at the hands of the worst sort of muggle and then the worst sort of wizard. He needs someone he can trust, someone who finally has his best interests at heart, and that person is me.”

This stopped the Obscurus dead in its tracks. Newt… cared about him. Deep down inside, Credence had always figured this to be true, but hearing him actually say it was something else entirely. A warmth spread across his chest.

It startled him. He was glad that Newt cared about him, obviously,  But this wasn’t exactly the reaction he was expecting. It was the same warmth that he got whenever Newt smiled at him or told him he was doing a good job. It always felt… wrong. This wasn’t how men were supposed to react to actions from other men. Newt was so gentle and kind that Credence hated the idea that he might have these awful, impure feelings for him. Newt had yet to call him an abomination or send him out, so perhaps he just hadn’t noticed yet.

A laugh from Theseus interrupted his thoughts. “All that travel sure hasn’t changed you a bit, Newt. Ever the bleeding heart, aren’t you?”

“I'd just hate for another man like Grindelwald to take advantage of him again.”

Grindelwald. The name sat like a rock in the pit of Credence’s stomach. That was the man who’d lied to and hurt him. The man who'd pretended to be Mister Graves, who'd only wanted him for his power.

Newt had promised him that he’d been captured and couldn't come back to hurt him anymore. And even if he got out, Credence was confident Newt would protect him. Yet, despite all this, the name still made Credence sick to his stomach.

And if the groan Theseus made was anything to go by, he shared in that opinion. “That _degenerate_ is half the reason I wanted to talk to you today, actually.” Another cough.

“Oh? What did you want to know?”

“Did you… happen to hear from Percy while you were in New York?” he asked, his voice tentative and nervous.

“Not the real one, no. Tina sent me an owl a few days ago. They haven't found him yet, and naturally Grindelwald isn't cooperating.”

Theseus groaned. “The worst thing is that I could've prevented it. This whole thing. He stopped responding to my owls in late October. I thought I’d give it a month before freaking out. I know he's a busy guy.” He sighed. “If I’d alerted MACUSA earlier maybe I could’ve stopped all of this…”

“You didn't know, Thes. Try not to beat yourself up over it too much.”

“No, Newt.” Theseus’ voice was determined now. “I'm going to find him. I don't care if I have to torture the information out of Grindelwald myself, I need to know what happened to him. I'm not going to let him remain missing because I knew something was wrong and didn't alert the authorities.”

“Theseus, I know Grindelwald is awful, but there's no need--”

Theseus cut his brother off. “There _is_ need, Newt. My… best friend was kidnapped by that fucker--”

“Language, Theseus.”

“--and if I have to be the one to bring him back, I'll do it. I don't care what it takes!” There was a pause before Theseus sighed. “Look, Newt, we were brothers in arms. I… I love him--”

Theseus had said more, but the statement played on repeat in Credence’s head over and over again. Theseus… was in love with Graves. Images of Graves from New York flashed in Credence’s head. He certainly understood it. The man he met was only wearing Graves’ face, but it was… certainly a very nice face.

And Theseus, celebrated as he was among wizard kind, was in love with him? Was… Newt okay with that? Wouldn't he bring shame to the family name? Why look for him? Why not hide it? Why--

His flurry of thoughts was interrupted by a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He looked up to see Newt’s face, calm and composed. “You heard everything we were saying, didn't you?"

Credence said the only thing that had taken up shop in his mind. “Theseus is in love with Mister Graves.”

Newt sat down beside him. “Not the one who hurt you, Credence. The original one. He and Theseus served in the war together, and they've always been--”

“But they're both men!” Credence blurted.

Newt’s face steeled. “I know muggles are a bit backwards about things like this, but in the wizarding world, it's considered quite normal. Theseus and Percival are both perfectly capable adults. There's no reason they shouldn't be in a relationship.”

There was another word that repeated again. “Normal”. It was normal here, just like his magic. Mary Lou… had lied to him yet again.

He didn't notice he was crying until his tears blurred his vision.

“Credence?” Newt asked, “Are you alright?”

“I'm normal,” he muttered in between sobs.

Newt just wrapped his arms around the younger man. “Yes, Credence. There's absolutely nothing wrong with you.”

Credence felt himself slowly slipping away, losing control

 

•••

 

By the time Credence had come to, he was still on the couch with a steaming cup of tea in front of him. Newt was in the armchair beside him, looking over a draft of his book.

As soon as Credence picked up the mug, Newt looked over at him, beaming.

“Are you doing alright? You were out for a while.”

Credence looked down at his body and flexed his limbs. He had nothing resembling the splitting headache or extreme exhaustion that usually followed a shift. “Did I..?”

“No, you just passed out. I think your condition is really starting to improve.”

Credence gently blew on his tea before taking a sip.

Improvement was good. It meant he wouldn't be hurting anyone anymore.

Newt got up and stood in front of the couch. “May I sit with you?”

Credence nodded. Newt would probably want to talk about what he’d said. He tensed as Newt sat down beside him, but he was as calm as ever.

“Anyway, before we got sidetracked, I was going to ask you about Christmas.”

Credence stared at him. “I… really don't want to go back to church…”

Newt raised a confused eyebrow. “What does church have to do with Christmas?”

“Isn't it… the day Jesus was born?” Credence asked. Christmas just brought up memories of sitting in a pew listening to Mary Lou’s sermons. Most of it was about the evils of magic and witchcraft, so he wasn't particularly excited to go back.

Though, he'd never been to a wizard church. Perhaps they were different, a bit less angry and hateful. Wizards themselves seemed much more open than Credence’s former family. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad?

But with the way Newt laughed, Credence was beginning to doubt that. “We don't have to go to church if you don't want to, Credence. In fact, I prefer not to. I find it quite boring.” He smiled. “You may not have heard, but Theseus and I were considering bringing you to our parents’ house for Christmas dinner. No church, no Jesus, just food. And maybe some gifts, but don't feel too pressured to get us anything.”

Credence thought for a moment. A wizard Christmas celebration sounded… nice. He liked Theseus a great deal, and more time spent with Newt always sounded lovely.

And there was the chance to get Newt a gift. Credence wasn't sure he could ever repay Newt for his kindness and understanding, but Christmas sounded like a good place to start.

“I'd like that a lot.”

Newt smiled. “Alright, I'll Theseus know you'll be coming. Though, if you change your mind, you still have two more weeks.”

“Thank you.”

Now just came the issue of what to get Newt.

 

•••

 

Credence found himself wandering around Diagon Alley, his pocket lined with Galleons. Despite lacking a wand, he was still able to visit the Leaky Cauldron via flu powder and access the entrance by tapping the brick with his hand (though the first few times, he'd had to convince the path to open for him. Newt had told him that this was simply because the Obscurus was still concealing his magic). His cover story was the same as it always was: he was Newt’s cousin from New York who'd come to look for work in London. He'd went to Ilvermorny and was sorted into Thunderbird, the same house as Auror Goldstein.

Though Credence had yet to find a wand that didn't shatter when he tried to use it, no one asked questions as long as he carried a fake one.

He was finding Newt to be particularly difficult to shop for. Most people would probably just tell him to get something related to magical creatures, but Newt was rather particular about such things. Most wizards really had no interest in the kind of beasts Newt kept. He _could_ buy him a puffskein, but Newt had gone on and on about responsible breeding and how little he trusted the commercial creature industry. Besides, it was one more mouth to feed, and Credence would feel guilty giving Newt more responsibilities.

Credence wound Newt’s scarf tighter around him as he wandered around the shops. Since the holidays were so close, there were a few shops where artisans were selling their wares. Magical jewellery that shined in low light, hand-woven tapestries with moving creatures, and miniature figures charmed to act and move like real creatures were all par for the course.

He always liked this sort of magic. The useful, pedestrian sort that made life more convenient or interesting. He may never wrap his head around conjuration or transfiguration or that sort of thing, but he supposed always being able to light his way and move things without touching them would be a useful thing to have at his disposal.

Credence looked through the vendor's booths and was so far finding nothing that really spoke to him. He hardly knew Theseus, and there was nothing around that he felt would really interest Newt. Or, at least, he thought so, until he took another at the tapestry booth.

While he wasn’t sure what use Newt Scamander would have for a tapestry, a second glance revealed that the artisan made all sorts of other cloth products. Scarves and cloaks and neckties and other things wizards might need. Each one was intricately decorated with a delicate hand, almost all with some sort of creature. There was one in particular that caught his eye…


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Channukah! My present to you is the second half of my Christmas fic!
> 
> Also, Newt's mother is played by [Helen Mirren](https://thenypost.files.wordpress.com/2015/05/helen_mirren_-_photo_credit_giles_keyte.jpg?quality=90&strip=all) because why not?

As it turned out, Newt’s family had a lovely, large home in the countryside. It was made of cobblestones with high, pointed roofs. In the cloudy, dreary English weather and surrounded by the shrieks of hippogriffs, it looked almost like something out of a gothic novel.

As Credence and Newt walked up to the house, he found himself staring at it. Something about the warm firelight in the windows and the general air of magic made him feel… comfortable. More at home than he’d ever felt in the church, where each misstep or out-of-place noise could result in punishment from Mary Lou.

Newt gently took Credence’s hand. “Come on, we should get you inside. It looks like it could start snowing at any minute now.”

(Credence’s heart always leapt when Newt did that. For the longest time, he’d thought no one would ever want to get near him, with his scarred hands, a lasting echo of how much his own family seemed to hate him. And yet Newt never hesitated to touch him, despite knowing what the scars were from and why they were there.)

“Your house is beautiful” was all that could come out of Credence’s mouth.

“The Scamanders are a very old wizarding family, so the house has been in the family for centuries.” Newt smiled. “I guess the aesthetics of it never quite occurred to me.” He turned to Credence, the younger man’s hand still in his. “Are you ready to meet my mother?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever really be ready but…” He nodded firmly. “Let’s go.”

Newt gripped Credence’s hand tighter. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right here.” He lead Credence into the door and rapped the knocker against the dark wood.

It was only a few moments before the door opened. Credence was, at first, confused, since it seemed to have done this completely on its own. However, once he looked down, he noticed a short, humanoid creature with batlike ears and a pointed nose. It was wearing and apron, and looked up at Newt with a smile.

“Ah, Master Newt has bringing a guest for Christmas. Had Poppy known this, Poppy would have spent much more time in the kitchen today.”

Newt laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Poppy. You always make enough to feed an army.” He gestured to the creature. “Credence, this is my family’s house elf, Poppy.”

Poppy outstretched a slender, thin hand, which Credence shook with his free hand. “Nice to be meeting you, Master Credence. Would the young master like Poppy to show him around the house?”

Credence felt his face flush. “There’s… no reason to call me ‘Master’. I hardly think I’ve earned the title…”

“Nonsense! If Master Newt is bringing a guest, that guest is a master too. It’s only proper that Poppy is calling him right.”

Newt smiled and held out a hand. “We’ll be sharing a room, so I’ll happily show him around. You can get back to cooking, in the meantime.”

“As long the sirs is happy, Poppy is happy too.” The house elf turned away and walked out of the foyer and into another room Credence couldn’t quite see.

“What was that?” Credence asked.

“Poppy is a house elf. Sort of a… servant creature, I suppose. Most wizard families have one. We tried to free her a few years back, but she insisted on staying. So she’s still here, even though we’ve told her she can come and go as she pleases. She gets her own room, and we pay her well. She seems happy enough.”

Credence looked towards the doorway the creature had disappeared into. He supposed she seemed satisfied, though he really didn’t know much about house elves.

He looked down to see that his hands were still linked with Newt’s. “So, are you actually going to give me a tour?”

Newt laughed. “Of course I am! I grew up here, you know.”  He took a few steps towards the large, curved stairwell in the centre of the foyer. “I figure we should probably put our stuff away in my old room before I gave you the grand tour, you know?”

“We’re staying in your old room?”

“Of course we are! Where else would we be staying?” Newt blushed. “I mean, you’re certainly welcome to sleep in the case if you want. There’s only one bed, though you can have it if you really want it…”

Credence had started to tune Newt out as they approached the top of the staircase. In the small stretch of hallway between the stairway and the bedroom, the whole area opened up to massive Great Room below. It was comfortably furnished, with multiple armchairs and even a lengthy bench incorporated into the sill of four tall windows. He could see the fire crackling in the fireplace, the massive Christmas tree beside it, half trimmed with lace and baubles. He could see the aerial view of a woman with greying hair levitating an ornament onto the tree, as she chatted to her son while he put up garlands of holly. It seemed that the whole house was filled with warm light and happy voices.

Credence gripped the railing harder as tears started to well up in his eyes.

Newt stopped talking and suddenly, his hands were on the boy’s shoulders. “Credence? Are you alright?”

He took a breath in an attempt to steady himself. “Yeah… I just…” He knew he could probably never explain this to Newt. But something about the house, the warm atmosphere, the way that people spoke so happily and calmly to each other… He’d never been anywhere like this, and certainly not with so many people.

This, he realised, was what a family  _ should _ feel like. All these people around, happy to see each other.  _ Loving _ each other. There was no oppressive feeling that someone could snap at any minute, no overwhelming dread at another sermon, just happiness and warmth and people enjoying one another’s company.

He’d been raised in a mockery of this. Credence always had the sinking feeling that something was wrong with his own home, but he’d never realised just how deeply flawed his own upbringing had been.

“This is good” was the closest he could come to vocalising it all.

Credence knew that Newt could probably never understand the weight of it all, but he still gently rubbed his shoulders.

“I’m glad you like it. I just hope my mother isn’t too overbearing. She means well she’s just…”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Credence interjected. He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of the coat he’d been borrowing from Newt. “We should go to your room. And then you can introduce me.”

Newt nodded. “That sounds good.” He jerked his head to the side. “It’s this way.”

He lead Credence further down the hall to a dark, wooden door. “It may not look like much, but it’s mine.”

The room beyond the door was small and slightly cluttered, yet it made Credence immediately feel at home. The desk near the front of the room was cluttered, in a way that felt comfortable, rather than messy. It was piled high with old parchment, spell books, and the odd feather or scale. It was comforting to Credence that Newt had always loved his creatures enough to keep souvenirs. On the wall behind the desk was hung a large banner that Credence immediately recognised as the Hufflepuff crest. The badger was clearly enchanted, as it paced back and forth.

There was a large bookcase on the opposite wall, filled to the brim with well-worn books. A few were textbooks Credence recognised from Flourish and Blotts, but many more were compendiums on magical creatures that seemed to date back centuries. The bookshelf was dotted with more feathers, scales, and claws from the various creatures Newt had kept over the years.

It was cluttered and comfortable and entirely Newt.

Credence stepped forward and sat on the edge of the bed. He felt himself break out into a smile. “You haven’t changed much since you lived here, have you?”

“I guess not. Just gotten a bit taller.” He sat beside Credence. “Have you seen the ceiling yet?”

Credence craned his neck upwards. The ceiling had been painted in the style of an antique, naval star chart, complete with all the constellations labelled. “Oh wow.”

“It’s charmed to look like the night sky above.” Newt chuckled. “My parents were livid once I did it, since I was only a fourth year, but I was damn proud of myself.”

“Do you think I could learn to do something like that?”

Newt smiled at him. “Of course you can. I’ll teach you myself, once you’ve mastered the basics. I’ve always had a knack for charms.”

That gave Credence a warm feeling in his chest. He’d never held much faith in his magical abilities, but the fact that Newt thought he was capable of something this complex?

It almost made him believe he could do it.

 

**•••**

 

Once they were all settled in, Newt gave him a tour of the house. It was just as beautiful on the outside as it was on the inside. There was a large room on the second floor with dark, hardwood floors that was devoted entirely to tables for cards, billiards, and wizard’s chess. It was the sort of thing Mary Lou would have never approved of (gambling and billiards were, like most things, the devil’s work), and Credence lived for it. He made Newt promise to teach him how to play everything.

The first floor was stunning, with two (two!) dining rooms and a massive library filled to the brim with all sorts of magical books. At the very end of the tour, Newt brought Credence into the Great Room.

Theseus was the first person to greet them, having arrived while Newt was showing Credence around. He was still wearing a fine suit, his wand in plain view, but he was followed at the heels by a massive, wolf-like dog.

Credence jumped at first, watching it as it trotted behind Theseus, never straying from his side. With its dark fur and piercing gaze, it looked like a hellhound.

He knew witches didn’t have familiars, but if Newt had pulled him aside and told him that this was some sort of spirit conjured by his brother, Credence wouldn’t be surprised.

Or at least, that’s what he thought until the thing at down beside Theseus and lolled its tongue out. It was almost comical, watching this massive creature act so much like a normal dog, but it was comforting.

Theseus followed Credence’s worried gaze. “Oh! This is Zeus. He’s my dog. I’m training him to help me at work.”

Perhaps that was meant to soothe him, but it only made Credence tense up more. He’d seen police dogs employed in New York countless times to break up “filthy communist displays”, as Mary Lou often put it. They were vicious creatures, only brought out to maim and injure people gathering in large groups.

Theseus seemed to tell that his explanation wasn’t helping. “He’s not going to hurt you, I promise. His job is to help me catch dark wizards, not ruin Christmas.” He let out a chuckle, punctuated by a dry cough.

As if on cue, Zeus walked over to Credence and sniffed him curiously. Once the creature was satisfied, it laid is massive head against his leg.

“Seems like he likes you. Go ahead and give him a pat.”

Well, he figured if anything bad happened, the Scamanders would be able to heal him. Tentatively, Credence reached out a hand and gently placed it atop the dog’s head.

In response, the thing let out a bark that echoed around the Great Room. Frantically, Credence pulled away from it and grabbed Newt’s coat.

Newt gently rubbed Credence’s shoulders. “It’s alright, Credence. I’m sure Zeus didn’t mean to scare you.”

Credence met the dog’s eyes. Did it look… apologetic? No, he was probably just projecting.

He was about to ask when a woman, who looked to be in her late seventies, walked over to them. She had the air of someone who was once quite respected and admired and knew she still deserved and commanded respect. “Could someone please explain why I’m the only one decorating the tree when there are three able-bodied young men who could be helping me?”

Both Scamander brothers blanched. Despite her mocking tone and delicate accent, it was clear that she meant business.

As the two brothers went about decorating the tree, the woman (who Credence guessed to be Newt’s mother) gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “You know, it’s not often Newt brings his friends home for the holidays…”

Credence felt his face heat up. “Well, I didn’t really have anywhere else to go, and I’m certainly not keeping Newt from his family, Mrs. Scamander.”

“Please, you can just call me Theodora.” She looked him over briefly. “How.. exactly did you meet my son?”

Credence felt his palms start to sweat. He wasn’t sure what Newt had told his mother about him, so he just defaulted to the truth. Or, at least a version of it.

“We met in New York. I… was in a bad situation at the time, so he offered me a job.” He took a shaky breath. “Your son is a very good man. I owe him a lot.”

“It can be…” She paused for a moment, as if searching for the right word. “...difficult for Newt to find someone who enjoys his company. We were beginning to worry.”

Did she think… he and Newt were…

That’s impossible. Newt wasn’t… wasn’t a freak like him.

Then again, his brother was. And according to Newt, the wizarding world didn’t harbour the same prejudices as the Muggle one. But even if Newt  _ was _ like Credence, there was no way he felt the same.

Not wanting to explain this, Credence just tried to fill the silence. “I mean, Newt talks a lot, and I barely talk at all. We, uh… I guess we work out.”

“He talks quite fondly of you in his owls. Though he mentioned you were raised by Muggles. That’s a rather unique background.”

“Yeah that’s… that’s the bad situation he got me out of. And also why I never learned magic.” He looked over towards the tree, watching for a moment as the two brothers decorated it impeccably. “I… could probably help decorate, but I’d have to do it the Muggle way.”

“Muggles decorate their trees too? How do they go about that, without magic?”

Credence shrugged. “I’m… not sure. My family frowned upon such practices. I’d assume a ladder involved.”

They looked at each other, silent, for a moment, then Theodora gestured to the tree. “You can go help out if you’d like.”

Credence nodded quickly before walking towards Newt and Theseus. Zeus trotted over towards him and gently brushed against his legs.

That seemed to catch Theseus’ attention, who let out a chuckle and a cough. “See? I told you he liked you.”

Credence flushed and stood between the two brothers. “What can I help with?”

“The tinsel,” Newt answered. “You shouldn’t need any magic to do that, just wind it around the tree. If you need any help reaching the top, give me a shout.”

Credence looked over the tinsel for a moment. It was so much, and the tree was so tall. He wondered…

There were plenty of times when Mister Graves (or, at least, the man pretending to be Mister Graves) had done magic without a wand. Maybe it wasn’t common, since even Theseus carried one around, but Credence didn’t really have a choice…

And besides, he figured, the tinsel was light. It shouldn’t take too much magic to lift it. He’d studying the levitating charm once a day for a month now. He could do this. Or, at least, he was fairly certain he could.

He moved his hand in his best approximation of a swish and flick in the tinsel’s direction while saying the incantation and…

It worked. The whole strand of tinsel gently floated in the air for a few seconds, before Credence jumped back, the tinsel falling like a stone with his loss of concentration.

Newt placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Credence? Did you just…”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah I… I think I did.”

Newt gently squoze his shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”

Credence didn’t even realise he was crying until he felt the tears streaming down his face.

Newt turned him around and held the young man’s face in his hands. “I always told you that you were magical. Now do you believe me?”

He nodded slowly. “I never thought… not without a wand anyway, like you have… and I…”

“That’s my fault. I should have encouraged you to try wandless magic.” He wiped one of Credence’s eyes with the pad of his thumb. The touch was so gentle, so tender, that Credence almost jumped out of his skin. “I knew you were powerful, Credence, but I never could have imagined  _ this _ .”

He stiffened. The words felt too familiar, too much like something Grindelwald had said to him once, when he’d let the darkness in his heart take over.

No. Newt wasn’t like that. What he’d just done… it was a good thing. This… power had always been brimming inside him and now he’d finally gotten some control over it, if what Newt said was to be believed.

But it felt good. It felt like some dam inside him had properly burst. For the first time in his life, he felt like he had control over the darkness he’d always felt welling inside him.

Except, he realised, it wasn’t darkness at all. It was magic. All along, his magic had been there, bristling under his skin, itching to get out, and he’d tried his best to push it away. It felt like everything had finally clicked into place.

By the time Credence was no longer in his head, Newt was gushing to his brother about the achievement.

“--and I look over and the thing is  _ floating _ , Thes. I always knew he had it in him! It’s a Christmas miracle!”

Theseus smiled and looked over towards Credence. “Think you can do it again?.”

Credence felt himself flush. “Uh, yeah. I’ll see if I can… Not sure how well it’ll work out, though. I’m… not quite sure how I did it the first time.”

He took a breath and waved his hand while saying the incantation. Just like before, the tinsel rose from its place on the table, weightless in the air. He focused on it this time, gently guiding it to the tree with his hand movements.

Credence glanced quickly towards the two brothers. Theseus looked impressed. Newt looked downright  _ elated _ .

Seeing as the tinsel hadn’t dropped yet, Credence wound it around the branches of the fir tree and then let it drop.

No sooner had the tinsel settled, Credence felt a sudden weight crash down on his shoulders.

He probably should’ve expected a massive hug from Newt, but he was still pleasantly surprised to feel the man’s warm body at his back. Even Zeus had happily trotted to him and started licking his fingers.

“Did you see that?” Newt asked, pride colouring his voice. “Did you see what you can do? I always knew you had it in you, and now I’m so glad you can see it too.”

“Think I can try a few more spells?” Credence asked, stroking the top of the dog’s head.

Theseus chuckled. “Sure, if you’re feeling up to it. Just try to save a few surprises for tomorrow, okay?”

He thought back to the green and red box he’d hidden in his room in Newt’s suitcase. He’d certainly saved at least one for the next day, that was for sure.

 

**•••**

 

Once the tree was decorated, the whole Scamander family gathered around a large table in the dining room, in front of a large spread of all sorts of different food. Turkey and potatoes and plenty of other things that Credence couldn't even name. Whether they were wizard foods or just too expensive for Mary Lou to afford, Credence wasn't sure.

The company was lovely. Credence had seated himself between the two brothers, who were happily chatting away about the state of the creatures in Newt’s case and the various duties Theseus had taken on as an Auror. He even felt Zeus curl up at his feet, the dog’s warm body fending off the winter chill.

The conversation came easily, and Credence felt almost immediately at ease, even though the Scamander’s house was still very much unknown territory. Perhaps it was the way Theodora Scamander looked at him the same way she looked at Newt and Theseus, or perhaps it was the way Theseus seemed to just.. accept Credence into his home. It was downright unheard of for a stranger, in Credence’s experience, to do something like this without asking anything in return (unless they were Newt, of course). And yet, Theseus and Theodora both outwardly refused to even let him do the dishes, claiming he was a guest, and he shouldn’t have to do those things.

After dessert, Credence and Newt found themselves lounging out on Newt’s bed, watching the stars on his ceiling twinkle and dance above him.

That was one thing he’d never get over when it came to the magical world: just how  _ beautiful _ it could be. Even if the sky outside would be difficult to see, in Newt’s room, as long as most of the lights were out, the entire sky was visible in all of its brilliant, breathtaking glory. It was so different from the sky in New York, where the city lights left only the brightest stars visible.

“I could show you some of the constellations, if you want,” Newt offered after a while.

Credence just looked at him blankly. “I.. don’t know what that is.”

“Constellations. They’re pictures made up from the stars, usually from old myths and whatnot. Though, I guess you wouldn’t know much about that.”

Credence chuckled. “Mary Lou probably thought it was some sort of filthy Pagan tradition and never bothered to teach us.”

Newt laughed. “Well, it’s covered pretty extensively at Hogwarts. And I  _ may _ have learned a few things from the centaurs.” He pointed up to a corner of the sky. “Do you see that group of stars kind of the the right? The one that looks a bit like a crude drawing of a figure?”

Credence squinted before following Newt’s finger. He could see it, clear as day. “Yeah, I see it.”

“That’s the princess Andromeda. If you look up to the one that looks like a ‘W’, that’s her mother Cassiopeia.”

“How is that supposed to look like a queen?” Credence asked, incredulous.

“I’m not sure, honestly. The Greeks always had a bit of a strange way of looking at things. But anyway, the story goes like this. Cassiopeia was known as a vain queen, and when her daughter came of age, she swore up and down that the princess was more beautiful than anything, even the daughters of the ocean god, Poseidon. You can imagine that he wasn’t quite happy about that....”

Credence was hardly paying attention as Newt went on about the different myths, about how the the princess was eventually saved by a hero on a flying horse, and a monster turned to stone (“there probably could have been a better way of solving it”). But Credence wasn’t quite interested by all of that. What really caught his attention was how Newt’s face lit up as he talked about them, gesturing excitedly to the sky as he rambled. It was downright charming, and Credence couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

Once he’d finished talking for a while, Credence inched closer to the other man. “I liked that. You should really tell more stories.”

“Oh.” Newt’s face flushed. “No one’s ever said they liked hearing me talk before.”

“Well, I do. You get so excited when you talk. It’s infectious.” The words were just spilling out of Credence’s mouth now, drunk on the welcoming atmosphere and Newt’s presence. “And I like seeing you smile.” Maybe it was too much, but Credence found himself not caring.

That just made a broad smile spread across Newt’s face. “Well, I like seeing you smile too. Helps me know if I’m doing my job right.” He sat up on the edge of the bed and stretched. “I need to go do the nightly rounds, make sure no one’s utterly destroyed my suitcase. Would you like to come with me?”

Credence shook his head. “Actually, I think I’d like it if I could explore the house a bit more? It’s all so big, I feel like I’ve barely gotten to see any of it.”

“Of course you can. Just make sure you don’t disturb anyone who’s sleeping. Also, the games in the billiard room are enchanted, so you can play by yourself if you want to.” He paused for a moment. “Oh! Do you need a light? I’m sure I have some candles in here.”

Credence waved his hand and cast  _ lumos _ , causing a small ball of light to appear in his open palm. He smiled cheekily. “No need.”

Newt’s face lit up. “I’m telling you, by the time New Year’s Day rolls around, you’ll be able to cast all the first year charms.” He opened the suitcase before turning back to him again.

Credence smiled. He wasn’t quite sure he believed Newt about his progress (he’d only gotten those two spells so quickly because he’d been studying them for so long), but it felt good to know that Newt was proud of him.

He made his way down the stairs, little ball of light in hand, and stopped right at the foot when he’d heard voices.

“--the obscurus boy?” He recognised the voice as Theodora’s.

“Yeah, that’s him.” The other speaker was Theseus. They were talking about him.

Credence closed his fingers around his light and stood with his back to the wall, listening as the two talked in the parlor.

“I figured. Not every day Newt brings home a young American man.”

“Not every day Newt brings anyone home at all, really,” Theseus replied, laughing to himself.

“I suppose you’re right. Do you think that...”

“I don’t know. The boy seems a bit skittish and Newt is… well, you know Newt.”

That made Credence’s heart skip a beat. What were they talking about? Something gnawing at his stomach knew it couldn't be good.

Theseus’ laugh came again, followed by “I give it a week.”

Credence had to bite his tongue to not let out an audible squeak. Was it really so obvious that he cared for Newt a bit more than he should? And what on  _ Earth _ was Theseus counting down to? The moment Newt realised keeping a ticking time bomb around was more trouble than it was worth?

He knew this was all too good to be true. Someone like Newt, with his bright eyes and his kind smile, would never want some broken, untalented wizard like Credence around. It was inevitable.

“A week? It’ll probably be less than that.”

Less than a week, even? What was Credence supposed to do with such short notice? So few people probably knew he was alive, much less would be willing to take him in and help with his magic. And he’d already picked out a Christmas present for Newt. He didn’t want the magizoologist hating it just because some freak of nature that shouldn’t even be alive purchased it for him.

Distraught, he rushed up the stairs again and curled up in Newt’s bed, drawing the sheets around himself. His time with Newt may have been limited, but he should reap the benefits while he still could.

He fell into a shallow, dreamless sleep.

 

**•••**

 

Credence woke up to gentle prodding. He rolled over and groaned, only to find Newt’s freckled face above him, framed by the starry sky.

“Did you already feed the creatures?” Credence asked, his voice still rusty from sleep.

He nodded. “I wanted to let you rest. Christmas is a big day, and considering everything that happened yesterday, you deserve your sleep.”

Credence was going to miss this, when Newt inevitably sent him out. It was nice having someone who cared about him and thought through what would be best for him. He’d have to go back to doing that for himself… and inevitably making the wrong choices just like he had…

No, there was no need to think of that now. It was Christmas. Newt would never send him out on Christmas.

Right?

So instead, he muttered a “thank you” and got out of bed.

Credence stretched and yawned exaggeratedly. “You can go down without me, I'll stay here and get ready.”

As soon as Newt was out of sight, Credence flung open the suitcase and walked inside. He walked over to the closet and pulled a box from behind a bale of hay. It wasn't much: the storekeeper had given Credence the box for free and only thing he could find to wrap it in was old copies of The Daily Prophet. It was the best he could do with what he had, he just prayed it was enough to show Newt how much he appreciated everything he'd done.

He'd felt a little bad that he hadn't gotten anything for Theodora or Theseus, but he had no idea what any of them would have wanted or what to do in this scenario. Besides, neither of them would get him anything, that much he was sure of. Why would they buy something for someone they barely knew?

Credence changed out of his pyjamas and went downstairs, hiding the box behind an armchair before he entered the Great Room.

The tree was still beautifully decorated, lighted both by the faint morning light and the fire roaring in the fireplace. There was only a small handful of presents beneath it, but they were all immaculately wrapped.

Newt was chatting with his mother as his brother’s attention was focused on Zeus.

It was the dog who noticed him first. As the massive creature trotted over to him, Theseus wasn't far behind. He placed a hand on the dog’s head.

“Good morning, Credence. Happy Christmas!”

He gave the dog a pet before looking Theseus in the eyes. “Were you… waiting for me?”

“Of course. We weren't going to start without you.”

Credence felt a hand come down on his shoulder, and suddenly he was back in that rickety old church with his mother looking over him.

He took a breath. No, he wasn't there anymore. Mary Lou was dead and gone and couldn't hurt him again. It was just Theseus, giving him an affectionate clap on the shoulder. Clearly, Credence had reacted visibly, as the Auror’s expression was filled with worry.

Newt had run over and greeted Credence with a wide smile. “I have something for you.”

Credence felt his face warm up. “You do?”

“Of course. Where on Earth would I be without such a dedicated assistant?” Newt grabbed an immaculately-wrapped box from beneath the tree. “It's a token of my appreciation.”

Credence carefully ripped the paper from the box and revealed the cardboard beneath. He opened it up.

Before he could even look inside, a small, grey shape flew out and perched itself on Credence’s shoulder. He grabbed it and cradled the thing in his hands.

It was a bipedal dragon, metallic grey in colour, and small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.

“He's a Ukrainian Ironbelly,” Newt explained, “The same breed I worked with during the war.”

Credence felt his face get hotter. “You… bought me a dragon.”

Newt winked. “I told you I'd get you one, didn't I? I try to keep my promises.”

Credence smiled and felt the overwhelming desire to wrap his arms around Newt, which he suppressed. No need to get too attached. He was just keeping his promises, that's all. Being a good person.

Too good for Credence.

“Thank you, sir.”

Newt’s smile fell slightly, but he wasn't sure why. “Anything to see you happy.”

And that was the thing that hurt the most. Newt was such a wonderful person, and Credence knew he could never be anything like him. It was hard to accept, but it was the truth.

He just forced a smile and placed the dragon in his breast pocket.

“Are you going to name it?” Newt asked.

“What?”

“The dragon. Are you going to name it?”

Credence blinked. “Oh!” He gave the tiny creature a pat on the head. “I don't know. Paul?”

Newt chuckled. “I like Paul.”

“Paul the dragon?” Theseus’ voice came from somewhere behind him. “You really are starting to take after Newt.”

Newt chuckled. “And who else would he be taking after? You?"

Theseus laughed. “I'm sure Dad would have wanted him to. You know I've always been the favourite child.”

Newt stood up and raised an eyebrow, mockingly. “When I become a world famous magizoologist, you'll regret that.”

Theseus raised an eyebrow facetiously. “Oh, will I now?” He grabbed a couple boxes from beneath the tree, both wrapped in coloured paper. “Well, if you're gonna make me eat my words, you're gonna need this. And Credence, there's one here for you too.”

Credence felt his face flush as he took the box from Theseus’ hands. “I’m sorry… I’m afraid I didn’t get anything for you… I honestly wasn’t sure what you’d want.” He braced himself for… something. He wasn't sure what, but it was something bad.

Theseus just smiled warmly. “Don't worry about it. You can make it up to me with something brilliant next year.”

Credence laughed. “I'll keep an eye out for something.”

Newt opened the box beside him. Inside was a dark grey cloak made of what seemed to be thick wool. He let out a low whistle. “Theseus, this is lovely.”

Credence tore the paper off his box and opened it, revealing the same thing. His heart damn near stopped as he laid his hands on it. It was so soft, so fine. Certainly nicer than anything Mary Lou would have given him and quite a bit nicer than most of Newt’s cast-offs.

“It's got cooling and warming charms in it. And it's been waterproofed,” Theseus explained. “I figured with all the different biomes in that box, you'd appreciate not having to change clothes.” He winked. “And the spell work was done by yours truly, so you  _ know _ it's quality.”

Newt laughed. “And if it isn't, I'll know who to blame.”

Credence held the cloak to his chest and felt his heart skip a beat. “Thank you. I have no idea… I don't even know what to say.” It astounded him, that anyone could go out of their way to find something so nice, so clearly expensive and didn't even expect anything in return. After spending his whole life being manipulated and used, it was one of those things he found so difficult to accept.

And he'd have to say goodbye to all of it soon. The thought was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

Theseus just chuckled and laid a hand on Credence’s shoulder. “That ‘thank you’ was all I needed.”

Credence sucked a breath in and nodded.

“I'm just glad you like it. If the spells stop working, you can just send it to me and I'll give it a nice little tune up.” He laughed. “Though, with the progress you're making, I can probably teach you to do it yourself in a few months.”

“I think you overestimate my abilities.”

“I doubt that. You've mastered wandless magic at an earlier age than even the most gifted Aurors I've met. That's no small feat.”

Credence felt his face flush. It was high praise from someone so well-respected. “Thank you, I guess.”

“Don't mention it.” Theseus winked at him. “And if you ever wanna learn duelling spells, feel free to pay me a visit. I'm sure Zeus would be delighted to see you.”

As if on cue, the massive dog sat beside Credence and touched its cold nose to the back of his hand.

Credence sat back on the couch and pet Zeus, watching as the two Scamander brothers opened their gifts from Theodora.

He was so focused on petting it that he didn't register the woman’s voice until she said his name.

“...Credence.”

He looked up from the dog, bracing for impact as he asked for clarification. “Pardon? I didn't quite hear you?”

His own mother would have struck him for that, but Theodora seemed much more calm. Credence supposed Newt took after his mother in that way.

“I was just apologising for the fact that I didn't get you anything. I didn't know you were coming, but next year I'll find something nice.”

Credence laughed. “Something nice? You've already gotten me a house to stay in, a lovely dinner, and a warm coat. What else is there to ask for?”

A strange mix of pity and pride coloured Theodora’s face. “You're coming over for Easter. I don't care if I have to send a hippogriff to fly you myself.”

Credence let out a laugh. “Thank you. I'll be looking forward to it.”

 

**•••**

 

Once the festivities were complete and all the gifts were opened, Credence gently prodded Newt’s shoulder. “I didn’t get anything for anyone else… But I got you something. Can I give it to you outside?”

Newt smiled. “Of course!” He grabbed one of the cloaks Theseus had given them and clipped it around Credence’s neck. The fine wool felt lovely against his shoulders and neck and the cooling charm had even kicked in to counteract the warmth of the fire.

“I'll meet you just outside the front door, then.”

After Newt had left, Credence grabbed the box from where it was hidden. His hands were shaking as he walked out to the foyer. What if Newt hated it so much he’d send him off right then and there?

He pulled the box tight to his chest and went outside anyway. Newt was already there waiting for Credence by the door.

“You really got something for me? When did you pick it up?”

“About a week ago. It took a while to find something I thought you'd like.” He held the box out. “Here. I hope you like it.”

Newt opened the box, finding his gift was nested in a bed of newsprint. Credence wasn't quite sure how to wrap presents, seeing as he'd never had a proper Christmas before, but he'd received some help from the storekeepers in Diagon Alley when he'd asked for it.

If Newt hated the lacklustre presentation, he didn't show it. Instead he placed it on the floor and took out the piece of fabric inside. He stretched it to its full length and held it out in front of him, drawing an audible breath in.

“Credence, this is beautiful.”

It was a scarf, about two feet long, that was almost solid black, with the exception of the moving image of a Thunderbird. As Newt spoke, it flapped its wings and a golden lightning bolt cracked across the black background.

“I figured you'd given me your scarf, I might as well return the favour. And I know you loved Frank, so I got something to remind you of him.”

Newt wrapped his new scarf around his neck. “That's so thoughtful of you!” He locked eyes with Credence and sighed. “You're so sweet, you really are.”

There was something more to Newt’s gaze, though. Something he couldn't quite place.

Newt took a shaky breath in. “Credence, I'm… afraid I haven't been quite honest with you.”

Credence clenched his hands into a fist. He knew this was coming. Nothing this perfect could ever last.

Newt took a step closer. Credence just tensed up more. Was Newt going to hit him? Push him into the snow? Or just yell at him and tell him he wasn't worth keeping around? Either way, it would hurt. Newt had always been so lovely to him.

(But then again, so had Mister Graves, at least at the start.)

“I don't know how to say this…”

Credence wanted to cry. Even when Newt was cruel, he was still so much himself.

Newt closed his eyes and the words almost tumbled out of his mouth. “Can I kiss you?”

Credence felt his heart stop. This… wasn't at all what he thought he was getting into. “What?”

“You don't have to. I'd never make you do anything you didn't want to. But… I like you, Credence. I think you're a very compassionate and intelligent young man, and you're shaping up to be quite the wizard too. And I… I don't know how else to explain it… I think you're beautiful. And when I see you, sometimes I wonder what kissing you might feel like. So… again, you don't have to if you don't want to, but I think I'd like to try.” Newt raised his hand and, for a brief moment, Credence’s heart beat faster. Instead, he just reached out, his hand barely an inch away from Credence’s cheek.

He stood there for a few seconds before he realised what Newt was doing. He wasn't going to touch him. It was Credence’s choice to cross the distance. Without saying a word, he was asking for permission. This was  _ not _ the behaviour of a man about to cast him out.

He set his cheek against Newt’s palm, the man’s fingertips caressing his face like it was the single most fragile, yet most valuable thing he'd ever touched.

It gave him the courage he needed.

“Please kiss me. I'd love for you to kiss me,” he breathed, barely audible in the winter air.

“Your wish is my command.” Newt leaned over and gently slotted his lips against Credence’s.

It was so different from the one time the fake Graves had kissed him. That had been forceful, he'd kept Credence’s head sandwiched between his palms as he'd taken what he wanted.

Newt was so…  _ Newt _ about it. There was no other way to put it. His hand was still cradling Credence’s face, but he was just so  _ gentle _ . Credence knew he could turn away if he wanted it to stop.

But the thing was, he didn't. He wanted to stay there, his lips moving against Newt’s for as long as possible.

When it did finally end, Credence just stood there, stunned. Tears were starting to well up in his eyes. He wasn't used to being treated like this. He wasn't sure he ever would be. But this felt right. This felt good.

“How was that?” Newt asked, biting his lip as he tried to read Credence’s expression.

“I think I'd like to do it again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, if you're wondering about that dog... At some point, I will probably explain about that dog.
> 
> Also the idea for all the presents here and the design of Newt's room came from my lovely beta reader [nightquills](http://nightquills.tumblr.com/), so if you liked any of those details, you should give her some love.

**Author's Note:**

> Come follow me on [tumblr](https://binary-suunset.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> This bitch takes [ commissions](https://binary-suunset.tumblr.com/post/160970900544/hey-everyone-now-that-i-am-officially-no-longer).


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